


Let it Snow

by DizzyRedhead



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Darcy Goes to Asgard, F/M, First Kiss, Fluff, Mutual Pining, Snow, rated for language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-10
Updated: 2016-01-10
Packaged: 2018-05-13 01:58:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5690251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DizzyRedhead/pseuds/DizzyRedhead
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's the first snow of the season on Asgard, and Darcy drags Sam out to play</p>
            </blockquote>





	Let it Snow

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Yavannie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yavannie/gifts).



> Written for the Darcyland Secret Santa on Tumblr.

Sam blinked his way up out of sleep to the repeated sound of the chime that the Asgardian palace used instead of a doorbell. “Come in,” he called, trying not to wince when he moved his head. Too much Asgardian ale plus a normal human metabolism was a bad idea, but it had kept him from doing anything even stupider…

...like act on the ridiculous crush he was nursing on one Darcy Lewis, who of  _ course _ was the person at the door. She came bounding in, her eyes bright and excited and almost the same vivid blue as the Asgardian-style hooded cloak she was wearing.

“Snow, Sam!!!” she exclaimed, hauling back the curtains to let even brighter light into the room. 

Sam groaned and rolled over, pulling the pillows over his head, feeling the covers twist around his waist and a draft snake its way under the thick, plush comforter. “For fuck’s sake, Darcy,” he mumbled, his words muffled under the pillows. “How goddamn early is it?”

There was a long pause without a reply, long enough that he cautiously uncovered one eye. She was staring at him, an unreadable look in her eye, but she turned back to the window as soon as she saw him looking back at her. 

“It’s like ten in the morning,” she informed him with something like her usual sassiness. “ _ Some _ of us didn’t stay up trying to drink the Warriors Three under the table last night.”

Sam tried to summon up an equally sassy response, but he made the mistake of lifting his head to do so, and the spike of pain that stabbed through his temples temporarily stole his sight and his breath. 

It must have shown on his face, because when he eased his eyes back open, Darcy was standing by the bed, her expression now openly concerned. “Is it okay--can I?”

He closed his eyes again, bracing himself for her touch. “Yeah, knock yourself out.”

Darcy’s fingertips were cool against his forehead, a light touch that sent sparks of awareness dancing across his skin. And then a warm wave washed through him, taking the various aches and pains of his hangover. Sam opened his eyes for real as Darcy’s hand fell away, stretching for the sheer joy of being able to move without pain. He regretted the impulse when Darcy moved back, a dull flush across her cheekbones, and he realized that the comforter was only just barely saving her from seeing quite a bit more of him than she’d ever seen before.

“Sorry,” he stammered, yanking the blanket back up to a more socially acceptable level, and feeling his own cheeks heat. “Thanks. You’re getting good at that. Could make a fortune back on Earth as a hangover cure alone.”

Darcy waved a hand dismissively, but she still wouldn’t look him in the eye. “I’ve got at least a year of study before I could even be a level one Healer here, and somehow I doubt I’ll be here that long. Anyway, don’t think I’ll save you from your mistakes every morning. You owe me, so get dressed and come play in the snow with me,” she demanded imperiously, her gaze darting around but usually hovering somewhere around his left ear.

“You  _ have _ seen snow before, right?” Sam asked. “You and Jane were in Norway for awhile, as I recall.”

She made a rude noise. “That was Earth snow. This is snow on  _ another world _ , Sam. Come on. Five minutes.”

Sam sighed. “All right, fair warning, I’m about to get out of bed here, since that’s usually a precursor to getting dressed.”

Darcy scuttled out the door, and Sam carefully ignored both her slight hesitation at the door and his own sense of disappointment when she actually left.

* * *

It turned out that, despite their advanced technology/magic, Asgardian children (and adults) still used wooden sleds with metal runners. Darcy was able to sweet-talk the palace staff into digging out a couple from some dusty storeroom, and they trekked through the city until they found a popular sledding hill, spending an exhilarating couple of hours flying down the slope and then trudging back up with the other children and adults who’d come out to enjoy the snowfall. Some enterprising vendors had set up shop selling some kind of hot drink (it tasted like the unholy bastardized child of chai and hot chocolate and Darcy was instantly hooked) and various other hot foods, so they took several food and drink breaks in between sledding.

Darcy was never quite sure how they got roped into the snowball fight; one minute she was chatting to a group of children who were openly, innocently curious about the two humans, and the next thing she knew, she and Sam had been declared “war leaders” and the children had divided themselves into two teams, with the occasional parent thrown in for good measure. From Sam’s smile and shrug as his team led him away to confer, he had no idea either, but Darcy had no time to dwell on that (or anything else that had happened this morning, thankfully), because her own team was taking great pains to explain their usual strategy to her.

After an agreed-upon half-hour to construct fortifications and snowball reserves, the two teams faced each other across the field of (snowball) battle. 

“Okay,” Darcy said, squatting down for one last council of war. “They’re probably going to try to go around our forts, so when they split, I want the attacking team to go straight down the middle. The defending team will stay in the forts and keep them busy. Everybody understand?”

There were solemn nods all around the circle. “All right then,” Darcy said, turning to eye the other team. “To victory!”

“To victory!” came the instant response.

The mother who’d been drafted as the referee checked that both teams were ready, dropped the flag, and booked it out of the field as fast as her legs could take her, but not before a snowball caught her in the thigh.

Sure enough, Sam’s attacking team split in half to flank her forts, so Darcy led the charge straight down the middle, moderating her pace to what little legs could handle, and aiming the majority of her snowballs at Sam’s stupidly handsome face. Before she knew it, they were circling each other in the midst of the field, the snowballs flying around them, each of them looking for an advantage.

“Give it up, Lewis,” Sam taunted cheerfully, tossing his snowball up and down in his hand. “You’re good, but I’m better.”

“Well, I have a secret weapon,” she returned, keeping out of arm’s reach. 

He arched an eyebrow. “Oh, yeah? And what would that be?”

“I have boobs,” she said simply, and when his eyes dropped to her chest for a split second, she pounced, dropping her snowball down inside the neck of his coat. She tried to dart away again, but he grabbed her arm, smashing his snowball against the side of her face.

Darcy clamped her teeth shut on the curses that wanted to come out (there were kids all around) and scooped up loose snow with her free hand, intending to throw it in his face, but her quick movement pulled him off balance and they went tumbling into the snow, tangled together, until they finally came to a stop with Darcy on top of Sam, his hands on her arms, their faces only inches apart.

They stayed like that for a long, frozen moment. Darcy leaned down, Sam lifted up, and their lips met, warm and soft and sweet. Darcy’s lips parted and Sam licked inside her mouth, his hands sliding up her arms to tangle in her hair, and--

“Ewwwwwww,” came a loud chorus from all around them, and they broke apart to see both teams staring at them in disgust and bafflement.

“I think we’re about to get court-martialed,” Darcy murmured, standing up and offering Sam a hand.

He took it, pulling himself to his feet close enough to whisper in her ear. “Worth it.”

**Author's Note:**

> I may expand this fic at some point, because I really like the idea of Darcy the Asgardian-trained healer, but who knows? My brain is difficult


End file.
